Lou Reed, Sit On My Face: Songs by Ed Murrieta

Lou Reed, Sit On My Face is my collection of songs -- rock songs, punk songs, country songs, campy songs, songs I've written on acoustic guitars since I started playing guitar in the early 1990s.

 

Some songs -- The Ballad of Joaquin Murrieta, Mugwump Blues, Yanqui Tradition and Highway 99 -- were previously published in my 1995 chapbook, Requiem for a Fat Kid.

Here are words and chords, and their stories.

I hope you enjoy them.

-- Ed Murrieta, Sacramento, August 2012

Hank, My God

At the Grand Ol' Opry in downtown Nashville, tourists can stand on stage and pose for pictures holding a guitar at the microphone. Back home, I made up a story to tell Hank Williams about the time I took the stage at the Opry, the old Ryman Auditorium, the shrine to country music that is itself a former church.

(Em) Hank, look at me(G)

(Em) I am singing at the Opry (D)

(Em) Rhyming these brick walls (G)

Hank, my (D) God, there's Tom T. Hall (Em)

(Em) Hank, playing sauced (G)

(Em) Honky tonk, country waltz (D)

(Em) Truck-stop angels dance divine (G)

Hank, my (D) God, call Red Solvine (Em)

(C) Lives on roads, (G) lives in graves

Hank, my (D) God, it's so insane

(C) Singing in the bright lights doesn't burn (G)

(D) But when the curtain goes down, (Am) your heart and Nashville close down

(c) I swear this stage feels just like my church (G)

(Em) Hank, let's play John & June's married tunes (G)

(Em) No cheatin' hearts, no crazy minds (G)

Hank, my (D) God, where's Charley Pride? (Em)

(Em) Hank, where are you? (G)

(Em) Lonesome highway, backseat tomb? (G)

(Em) Whatever hurt, whatever sin (G)

Hank, my (D) God, here comes Loretta Lynn (Em)

(C) Lives on roads, (G) lives in graves

Hank, my (D) God, it's so insane

(C) Singing in the bright lights doesn't burn (G)

(D) But when the curtain goes down, (Am) your heart and Nashville close down

(c) I swear this stage feels just like my church (G)

          (C)I swear this stage (G) feels just like
          Hank, my (D) God, I see the light
          (C) I swear this stage (G) feels just like my church (G)

(Em) Hank, one more song (G)

(Em) In the Ryman, nothing's wrong (G)

(Em) After midnight, in the sky (G)

Hank, my D) God, bless Patsy Cline (Em)

(C) Lives on roads, (G) lives in graves

Hank, my (D) God, it's so insane

(C) Singing in the brights lights doesn't burn (G)

(D) But when the curtain goes down, (Am) your heart and Nashville close down

(c) I swear this stage feels just like my church (G)

          (C)I swear this stage (G) feels just like
          Hank, my (D) God, I see the light
          (C) I swear this stage (G) feels just like my church (G) 

My Lady of Tamales

I was hiking in the woods thinking about tamales, and probably missing my mom and her cooking. I wrote the chorus in the woods. I knew about the ladies who sold tamales on the streets of San Francisco, Los Angeles, Tucson, and I made up a narrative that could fit thousands of Mexican immigrants, and any mother who makes tamales.

Here is demo of My Lady of Tamales.

Strum, with depth and soul: DOWN UP DOWN UP DOWN UP DOWN

(A) She cooks every morning (E) each one made by hand

(A)Tamales, (D) tamales, (E) made in her new land(A)

(A) Days on the corner, (E) nights door to door

(A) Selling tam(D)ales and (E) giving her soul (A)

(E) 2 for 2 dollars, (A) best meal in town

(E) Her red sauce is spicy, (A) her mole’s deep brown

(A) Each holy bundle

(E) Each loving bite

(A) TAMALES! (D) TAMALES!

(E) She’s my saint tonight(A)

(A) Straight from Hermosillo, (E) she took Joaquin’s hand

(A) An Ameri(D)can dream, (E) she cooks for him (A)

(A) Crossing the desert, (E) she fed all the men

(A) Tamales (D) from home, (E)  the best they ever (A) had

(E) Now she nurses babies (A) alone in the van

(E) She buried Joaquin’s body in the (A) hot coyote sand

(A) Each holy bundle

(E) Each loving bite

(A) TAMALES! (D) TAMALES!

(E) She’s my saint tonight(A)

(A) Mission, Olvera, (E) the bars of Barrio Street

(A) Tamales, (D) tamales — (E) savory and (A) sweet

(A) Come closing time, (E) she’s fed every drunk

(A) every viejo, (D) pachucho,(E)  priest, cop and (A) punk

(E) Cornmeal and lard, (A) Spice of her kiss

(E) hugged with a husk (A) an embrace I miss

(A) Each holy bundle

(E) Each loving bite

(A) TAMALES! (D) TAMALES!

(E) She’s my saint tonight(A)

Third-World White Man

This song, hopefully sung with a Caribbean lilt, was inspired by a cellphone commercial set in Jamaica, in which one character says to another, "You're standing in my spot." I thought about the United States' economy and the state of the world; the words flowed. I think the chorus would sound great in Double-Dutch cadence.

Strum moderately: DOWN UP DOWN UP DOWN UP DOWN

(D) Third-world white man, (A) used to be the first

(D) United States economy (A) getting worse and worse

(A) China owns your soul (A) You'll peddle all your nukes

(C) Third-world (G) white man, (C) what you gonna (G) do?

(Em) Duvalier, Mugabe, (G) Idi Amin Dada

(C) Third-world (G) white man, (C) you're standing in my spot (G)

(D) Third-world white man, (A) how's it feel to see

(D) soldiers in your Escalade and(D)  crews from BBC

(D) camping in the mud that (A) used to be your lawn

(C) Your life turned brown, (G) Sally Struthers came to town

(C) Let's eat --

(No Chord, sotto voce) here's your 17 cents today

(Em) Duvalier, Mugabe, (G) Idi Amin Dada

(C) Third-world (G) white man, (C) you're standing in my spot (G)

(D) Third-world white man, (A) here's what you must do

(D) Slaughter your white babies until they (A) give a damn for you

(D) Third-world white man, (A) what's with all the shame?

(C) See the light, (G) realize (C) we are all the same(G)

(Em) Duvalier, Mugabe, (G) Idi Amin Dada

(C) Third-world (G) white man, (C) you're standing in my spot (G)

Live Your Own Time, Child

This song was inspired by the movie "I'm Not There," in which a character says to the precocious musician versed beyond his years -- the boy who is supposed to be a mythical Bob Dylan, appropriator of ages -- that he should, "Live your own time, child." I filled the verses with icons that came before my time.

Strum slowly: DOWN UP DOWN UP DOWN UP DOWN

(A) Hobo train calls my name

(Cm) tracks me back to you in vain

(B7) Lovers, liars die again

(D) Woody, you're my only friend

(A) Peace and love I sing again

(Cm) Howling like the idiot wind

(B7) Turn on, drop out and tune in

(D) I love you, Mrs. Robinson

But you say,

(A) Live your own time, child

(D) Memories grow wild

(A) Sieze today from yesterday (D)

(A) Caught the Prankster bus with my thumb

(Cm) Kesey passed the acid cup

(B7) Hunter hung on for the ride

(D) Ate his gun, would not swallow pride

(A) Allen, Billy, hey, Jack K

(Cm) Hemingway and Jean Genet

(B7) I read you all in old Tangiers

(D) Loaded queens, shotguns in the mirror

(A) Sweep up all your Dust Bowl songs

(Cm) Tom Joad's gone where he belongs

(B7) Grapes need picking, cotton too

(D) Cops beat guys -- that's what they do

And you say,

(A) Live your own time, child

(D) Memories grow wild

(A) Sieze today from yesterday

Halloween's Tonight

I wrote this song in a Canadian island cabin on Halloween. I was noodling with "Walk On the Wild Side" and wondered, "What's Lou Reed doing tonight?" I missed San Francisco too.

(E) Tourists eat candy in the apple-red light

(A) Louie's in drag but that's just life

(E) Tony's dolled up like a princess pup

(A) Barbie's butched up and she wants it rough

(B7) Halloween's ton(E)ight

(E) Barbary Boys got their makeup right

(A) Daddy cruises Market on his pink-steel bike

(E) Sisters of Indulgence in their everyday clothes

(A) Father Castro must confess he covets their robes

 

(B7) Halloween's ton(E)ight

(E) Candy-corn cable cars, pumpkins are stoned

(A) Grinning brains on fire, I saw Casper the Ghost

(E) going down on Cupid, wasn't wearing a stitch

(A)  shooting arrows straight through the naked Wicked Witch

(B7) Halloween's ton(E)ight

(E) Marquis de Sade gave Doris Day a sweet trick and a treat

(A) a Dore Alley spanking and a Folsom leather seat

(E) Toto's in the back room making Judy Garland sounds

(A) Have your fun, beware of lumps -- hey, man, there's Good Old Charlie Brown

(B7) Halloween's ton(E)ight

Can I Swim in This Sound?

A reporter asked Neil Young how he determines if he should still play any song from his back catalog. "Can I swim in this sound?" That's the question he said that he must be able to answer to know if a song will survive. This song is meant to sound like a Neil Young song, in homage, not mimicry. And I wrote it in Canada.

(Am) Rear-view dreams distorted

(F#m) Young me idles by (Gm)

(Am) I'm running on, got Hank strapped tight

(F#m) Richard Nixon had to die --(Esus4)  don't cry

(D) Cortez on the water

(A7sus4) Four dead on the ground

(A7) Chrome rusts in the prarie wind

(D) Can I swim in this sound? (Asus4) (Dsus2) (Dsus4) (D) 

(D) Can I swim? (A) Where does my song end?

(D) Can I swim? (A) Where do I begin?

(D) Can I swim? (A) May I bring my friends?

(D) Can I swim in this sound? (Asus4) (Dsus2) (Dsus4) (D)  

(D) Cortez on the water

(A7sus4) Four dead on the ground

(A7) Chrome rusts in the prarie wind

(D) Can I swim in this sound? (Asus4) (Dsus2) (Dsus4) (D)  

(D) Can I swim? (A) Where eagles cry

(D) Can I swim?  (A) Where orcas sigh

(D) Can I swim?  (A) Where dogs don't die

(D) Can I swim in this sound? (Asus4) (Dsus2) (Dsus4) (D)  

(D) Can I swim? (A) Where redwoods grow

(D) Can I swim? (A) With buffalo

(D) Can I swim? (A) With the old man down the road?

(D) Can I swim? (A) Where seasons change

(D) Can I swim?(A) Where true love reigns

(D) Can I swim? (A) Like a hurricane

(D) Can I swim in this sound?

(D) Can I swim?  (A) Let's take a risk

(D) Can I swim?  (A) Please bear my kids

(D) Can I swim?  (A) I want your last good kiss

(D) Can I swim in this sound? (Asus4) (Dsus2) (Dsus4) (D)  

(Am) Rear-view dreams distorted

(F#m) Young me idles by (Gm)

(Am) I'm running on, got Hank strapped tight

(F#m) Richard Nixon had to die --(Esus4)  don't cry

(D) Cortez on the water

(A7sus4) Four dead on the ground

(A7) Chrome rusts in the prarie wind

(D) Can I swim in this sound? (Asus4) (Dsus2) (Dsus4) (D)

(D) Can I swim in this sound? (Asus4) (Dsus2) (Dsus4) (D)  

Lou Reed, Sit on My Face

According to one of Lou Reed's sex partners in the Andy Warhol Factory days of the 1960s, Lou's lover made the titular request, and Lou begrudgingly complied. It's the begrudgement that inspired this song. Please do not begrudge me and do sing this song to a dirty Lou Reed beat.

New York: Drella's Factory

Lou comes, then he zips to leave

Hey, man, you're not too cool to please

Keep your jacket and shades

but off with those jeans

I wanna come, too, Lou!

Paris: Nineteen-Seventy-Four

Le Marais, done up like your whore

Hey, Louis Daddy, won't you wait for me too?

First I let you fist me

then you came and pissed me

Now I gotta come, too, Lou!

Lou Reed, sit on my face

I really gotta finish, we've been edging for days

Lou Reed, sit on my face

Don't begrudge me when you fudge me -- what would Andy say?

Lou Reed, sit on my face

I'll eat your ass dirty, you can make me say, "Grace."

Don't switch off till I get off

Don't begrudge me, selfish boy

Don't switch off till I get off

Don't begrudge me, selfish boy

Don't switch off till I get OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Berlin: the Wall and me went down

You stood there like you owned both halves of town

Schoenberg boys swallowed all of your jizz

I dressed for you like Dietrich

You didn't give a shit

But I wanna come, too, Lou!

Downtown today

We're older, we're married

Meatpacking men died off or split

No more bareback like the old days -- not even for the kicks

Why must I still nag you and beg you to teabag you?

Fuck -- I gotta come, too, Lou!

Lou Reed, sit on my face

I really gotta finish, we've been edging for days

Lou Reed, sit on my face

Don't begrudge me when you fudge me -- what would Andy say?

Lou Reed, sit on my face

I'll eat your ass dirty, you can make me say, "Grace."

Don't switch off till I get off

Don't begrudge me, selfish boy

Don't switch off till I get off

Don't begrudge me, selfish boy

Don't switch off till I get OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Lou Reed, sit on my face

I really gotta finish, we've been edging for days

Lou Reed, sit on my face

Don't begrudge me when you fudge me -- what would Andy say?

Lou Reed, sit on my face

I'll eat your ass dirty, you can make me say, "Grace."

Big Hair

I had just seen Dutch Falcone and His Large Orchestra -- big-band leader, with girl singers, horn section and blazing guitars -- and I wanted to write a song for the band. I sheepishly thrusted it at one of the singers, who worked at the coffeehouse I frequented. I'm sure she tossed it like a rotten love letter.

(E) Pull it, (E7) tease it, (A7) please it

(E)  Run your fingers in bet(A7)ween it

(E) Red, blonde, (E7) green or (A7) blue

(E) 3 feet in the air and a ton of (E7) Dippity-Do

(A7) Ooooh, baby, all that hair

Don't (E) brush me off, Farrah -- I want (B7) your big hair

(E) I love you kinky and I'll take (B7) you straight

(E) Curlers make better bounce, toss (B7) and shake

(E) Ohhh, what body -- dig (B7) that shine

(E) Never cut it girl or you'll (C) make me (B7) cry, (A) BIG (E) HAIR

(E) Hair the size of Texas

(C) Styled up like a Lexus

(A) Spread out on my pillow

Gotta (E) open up a window

(E) Big old whiff of spray

(C) Damn, I gotta say:

(A) Feathered,Mowhawk, Mullet, Glam

(B7) Hair as big as that, I don't (E) care if she's a man

(E) Pull it, (E7) tease it, (A7) please it

(E)  Run your fingers in bet(A7)ween it

(E) Red, blonde, (E7) green or (A7) blue

(E) 3 feet in the air and a ton of (E7) Dippity-Do

(A7) Ooooh, baby, all that hair

Don't (E) brush me off, Farrah -- I want (B7) your big hair

Cold Beer and Sex from the Rear

I performed this song in a bar in a Seattle suburb, backed by my cousin Bob on drums. We were asked not to return. Like David Allan Coe with a Prince beat when done right.
 

(D) Short skirt and a six-pack (E) we were lovers at first sight

She had (G) "tastes great, less filling" (D) tattooed across her thighs

(D) I met her Milwaukee (E) She was really quite a case

She said, (G)"Good to see you, daddy, but don't do me (D) face to face

(C) COLD BEER AND (G) SEX FROM THE REAR

(Em) POP THAT CAN, OPEN WIDE, (A) SLAP YOUR CHEEKS MAKE YOU CRY

(C) COLD BEER AND (G) SEX FROM THE REAR

(Em) SHAKE THAT BOOTY SIDE TO SIDE

(A) SMILE AT ME WITH YOUR BIG BROWN EYE

(G) I buttered up my Brando

(D) We tangoed in the sheets

(G) I put my mouth to Mickey's

(D) Like malt liquor she's sweet

(G) St. Ives, Schlitz, Colt 45

(D) I'm a smooth-taste fooler

(G) Sliding in your backdoor

(Bm) I'm a King Cobra, brother

(D) Frosty double 40s, (E) I coulda pitched a fit

She had (G) Anhauser-Busch (D) tattooed across her tits

(D) She worried that I might (E) mess up her hair

I said, (G) "I won't pull your 'do. Get your (D) ass in the air"

(C) COLD BEER AND (G) SEX FROM THE REAR

(Em) POP THAT CAN, OPEN WIDE, (A) SLAP YOUR CHEEKS MAKE YOU CRY

(C) COLD BEER AND (G) SEX FROM THE REAR

(Em) SHAKE THAT BOOTY SIDE TO SIDE

(A) SMILE AT ME WITH YOUR BIG BROWN EYE

(G) Once I drank a light beer and (D) they called me a queer

(G) But tranny fanny's just as good -- (D) especially if she's packing Bud

(G) Miller, Stroh's, (D) Coors or Michelob

(Bm) Deliveries in back

(G) Go for the gusto (D)

(C) COLD BEER AND (G) SEX FROM THE REAR

(Em) POP THAT CAN, OPEN WIDE, (A) SLAP YOUR CHEEKS MAKE YOU CRY

(C) COLD BEER AND (G) SEX FROM THE REAR

(Em) SHAKE THAT BOOTY SIDE TO SIDE

(A) SMILE AT ME WITH YOUR BIG BROWN EYE

Mugwump Blues

I wanted to write a song about heroin and had absolutely no experience with the drug. I just re-focused what I knew about unattainable women. Mugwump -- from characters that secreted dope in William Burroughs "Naked Lunch" -- was intended as a placeholder, but I still can't think of anything better.

(C) B-movie memories, (Am) lonely motel roads

(C) I hurt for you again. (G) Take me in my arms

(C) and fill me warm. (G) Sweet injection of rain

(C) Shadows open fire (Am) My eyes are closed

(C) A virgin son is born and (G) then

(C) Tremble through my blood (Am) Swim my river life

(C) Crawl inside me all the (G) way

(Am) I can't fix (C) where I've been

(Am) Mugwump Blues on and on (C)

(Am) It's been so long, (C) I slaved for you

(Am) Mugwump Blues on and on (C)

(C) Sister Morphine -- (Am) my maiden queen

(C) my wife, my life, my mistress (G) hand

(C) She's a hollow lover, a (Am) wicked rose

(C) needles pointing to the (G) red

(C) Mercy roars, (Am) I come to life 

(C) I'm moving faster than (G) death  

(C) What's inside me, (Am) what's in you

(C) We're all junkies in the (G) end

(C) Suicide is (Am) my best friend

(C) Lonely people don't under(G)stand

(C) But dying's easy, (Am) I guess I'll wait

(C) I can dream without a (G) taste